


The Monster of Shiratorizawa

by DeathBelle



Series: The Loyalty of a Traitor [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Apparently trying to kill your partner can be considered foreplay, Blood, Blood Kink, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Guns, Killing, Knifeplay, Knives, M/M, Minor Character Death, explicit violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:19:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: When Ushijima Wakatoshi takes control of the Shiratorizawa Syndicate, Semi expects things to remain largely the same. He is proven wrong when Ushijima accepts a new member into his inner circle, one with a wide smile and a dangerous fascination with knives.Semi is given the responsibility of turning Tendou Satori into a valuable member of Shiratorizawa, and despite his initial disdain, he discovers that he and Tendou have more in common than he would care to admit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sagee suggested this spinoff, and I am weak for tensemi. 
> 
> This is just backstory on some of the Shiratorizawa characters, so you don't have to read it to understand what's happening with the main story. 
> 
> This may contain spoilers for chapter 6 of the main fic, so if you haven't gotten that far, don't read it yet.

**SEVEN YEARS AGO**

Ushijima’s rise to power in Shiratorizawa was a calm affair. In other syndicates, the new _Kumicho_ was often initiated with conflict and slaughter and blood. Men of power thrived on that power, and they did not give it up willingly.

Shiratorizawa was an exception. Their past boss had been Utsui Takashi. He had led the syndicate for two good decades without spectacular incident. When he felt his time of leadership was drawing to a close, and it seemed his son was prepared for the responsibility of taking his place, Ushijima Wakatoshi dutifully stepped up to assume the role. There was no fanfare or uproar. One day Utsui was still in charge, and the next, it was Ushijima sitting in his place.

Semi Eita had known it was coming. He’d worked for Utsui for years, ever since the man had rescued him from a swamp of legal trouble in his teens. He’d worked for Utsui out of a sense of obligation, at first. Gradually that had evolved into respect and devotion. Semi had embraced his role in Shiratorizawa. He had done things under Utsui’s command that would have made his teenage self sick. He’d watched people suffer, watched them die, and had been the cause of it more times than he could recall.

But he would gladly do all of that again, and more. Utsui had given him a home, and a purpose, and Semi would do anything in his power to show his gratitude.

He was disappointed to see Utsui step down, but it had been expected. He’d come to terms with it before it had happened. Utsui had discussed his impending departure for months beforehand, but only with the members of his inner circle. Semi was pleased to be counted among that number.

Semi would miss Utsui, but he wasn’t worried about the shift of power. He knew Ushijima well, and trusted that the integrity of Shiratorizawa – and Semi’s position within the syndicate – would not be compromised.

He and Ushijima were nearly the same age, and once Semi had been taken in by Shiratorizawa, they’d spent much of their time together. Semi didn’t have any siblings that he was aware of, but he imagined that his relationship with Ushijima was as close to brotherly as he would ever get with anyone.

Which was why he was so shocked by some of the decisions Ushijima made on his first day of leadership.

“Some of Utsui-san’s men have chosen to retire with him,” said Ushijima. He sat at the head of the table, arguably a stronger presence than his father had ever been. Half of the chairs were vacant, evidence of the members who had chosen to go along with their boss.

Though Semi had great admiration for Utsui, even he couldn’t deny that there was something about Ushijima that overshadowed his predecessor. Utsui had been strong because of the people he chose to surround himself with. Ushijima would have been strong even if he’d stood alone.

Semi supposed that was why several of the elite members had chosen to follow Utsui into retirement. They were aging, of course, but they were also concerned about working under a new _Kumicho_ after they’d spent the past twenty years under Utsui’s charge. 

Ushijima had allowed them to step down without consequence, because he didn’t want to keep anyone there who wouldn’t give him one hundred percent of their commitment. 

Semi knew that was unique to Shiratorizawa, too. In most other syndicates, membership was a life sentence. The only way out was death.

“Those of you who remain will be rewarded,” said Ushijima. “I am grateful for your continued dedication to Shiratorizawa. I will steer the syndicate forward in the best way that I can, and I will trust all of you to help me do so.”

Ushijima looked around at them, and Semi took the opportunity to glance to the side. The chair beside him was vacant, but in the next one over, Yamagata was nodding along with Ushijima’s speech. Yamagata had been one of the elite members for the past several years. His primary duty was to keep the syndicate’s more illicit matters under wraps, mostly by disposing of bodies before they were found by the police.

Semi’s attention darted to the man across the table as Ushijima spoke his name.

“Reon. I would like to offer you the position of my advisor. I respect your experience and your dedication to Shiratorizawa.”

Oohira nodded, solemn. “Of course, Ushijima-san. It would be an honor.”

Ushijima gestured to the empty chair at his side and Oohira rose from his seat, circling the table to sit at Ushijima’s right hand.

“I have chosen several others to fill the empty spaces among us,” said Ushijima. “They will arrive shortly. My only wish is to continue to run Shiratorizawa as smoothly and effectively as my predecessor. I believe we will have no trouble succeeding.”

Ushijima continued speaking about the syndicate and his plans, and a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” said Ushijima. His voice was a deep bass, more imposing than Utsui’s. 

The door opened, and their new elite members filed in. Semi recognized all of them, by face and by name. He was displeased to see Shirabu Kenjirou among them, though he wasn’t surprised. He and Shirabu had suffered their share of disagreements, but even he couldn’t deny that the man was coldly competent.

Semi was only surprised by one of them, the last man that sauntered inside with a wide grin that was distinctly out of place in the serious atmosphere.

Semi looked to Ushijima, waiting for him to expel the new arrival, to indicate there had been a mistake.

Instead Ushijima gestured for him to close the door, and said nothing as the man took a seat beside Semi.

Semi looked over at him, baffled, and received a narrow-eyed grin in response.

The rest of the meeting passed smoothly. Semi found that he couldn’t completely focus on anything that Ushijima said because he was hyper-aware of the man sitting beside him, swaying slightly in his seat, occasionally humming under his breath.

There must have been a mistake.

The meeting concluded and most of the attendees filed out. Semi remained in his seat, not moving until only he, Reon, and Ushijima remained.

He waited until the door was closed before he said, “Please tell me you made a mistake.”

Ushijima’s face didn’t change. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Semi gestured at the empty chair beside him. “Tendou Satori. Why was _Tendou Satori_ here?”

“He will be joining us,” said Ushijima, unruffled. “I believe he has potential.”

“Potential,” repeated Semi, the word bitter on his tongue. “He’s fucking insane, Ushijima. His only potential is for making Shiratorizawa look like a group of psychopaths.”

Ushijima’s brows pulled together. “Tendou does get overexcited at times. We have discussed it. He said he will strive for improvement.”

Semi gaped at him. Ushijima couldn’t be serious.

He reminded himself who he was talking to. Ushijima was always serious.

“Of all the people you could have chosen,” said Semi, “why would you pick him? You remember the airport incident, right? And the one with the university kids. Oh, and the one with Matsui Sora. The police could barely identify the body when Tendou was finished with him. He’s a _monster_ , Ushijima.”

Ushijima’s expression sharpened. It was a subtle thing, a muted flash of his eyes, but Semi felt the air grow colder.

He remembered that this wasn’t just Ushijima he was speaking to. This was his boss now. This was the man who held Shiratorizawa in the palm of his hand.

“I have decided,” said Ushijima, voice heavy with the weight of his authority, “that Tendou will join my inner circle. It is not up for debate. My father feared him, so he was never given a chance to succeed. I will not keep that from him. He has the potential to do well for us, and I will give him the opportunity to do so. Are you questioning my decision?”

Semi’s mouth was dry. He shook his head, eyes darting to Oohira, who was a silent spectator at Ushijima’s side.

“No, Ushijima-san,” said Semi, looking down at the table. “I trust your judgement. I’m only concerned about Shiratorizawa’s reputation.”

“That is my burden to bear,” said Ushijima. “Not yours.”

“Yes, Ushijima-san.”

“Though if you are concerned,” said Ushijima, “then the two of you can work together until he proves himself capable.”

Semi opened his mouth to argue. This was the last thing he wanted.

But he caught Oohira’s eye, and a subtle shake of his head made Semi swallow the words. 

“Whatever you say, Ushijima-san,” said Semi instead, dread rising like bile in the back of his throat.

“Very good,” said Ushijima. He stood, and though he’d already been a portrait of intimidation, his height only enhanced it. “You are quite competent, Semi. I expect you will help Tendou to become the same way.” He stepped around the table, but paused just behind Semi. “As I recall, my father salvaged you from a jail cell and gave you the opportunity to become something greater than a common street criminal. Tendou deserves the same chance that you were given.”

Semi’s stomach sank. He nodded his understanding and Ushijima left the room. Oohira was only a step behind him, but he paused to rest a hand on Semi’s shoulder.

“Tendou isn’t so bad,” said Oohira. Though Semi wasn’t looking at him, he still heard the smile in his voice. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s been through a lot. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Semi. “I’ll try.”

Oohira squeezed his shoulder and then he was gone, too.

Semi thumped his head down against the table. 

He should’ve kept his doubts to himself.

  
  
  
  
  
A week later, Semi and Tendou were given their first job together.

It went about as terribly as expected.

“Tendou, what the _fuck?_ ” said Semi. He slapped the knife out of Tendou’s hand and shoved him a step back. The man on the floor cowered away from them, blood drizzling down his cheek.

“What?” said Tendou, holding his hands up in submission. His eyes were wide, but his grin didn’t falter. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting information,” said Tendou with a shrug. “Isn’t that the job?”

“You don’t have to cut people up to get information,” snapped Semi. He kicked the knife across the floor, where it spun and bounced against the far wall. 

“Hey, watch it. That’s my good knife.”

“Shut up.” Semi pulled his gun and aimed it at the man in the floor, holding it level with his forehead. “Tell me who’s selling on Ushijima’s territory and tell me now. I’m not in the mood to fuck around.”

The man told him everything he knew. He was clearly terrified.

When he was finished talking, Semi shot him.

“Get your shit and let’s get out of here,” said Semi. He wiped flecks of blood off the muzzle of the gun, tucked it away, and pulled out his phone. “I’ll tell Yamagata we’re finished here. He’ll take care of it.”

Tendou ambled across the room and plucked his knife out of the floor. He flipped it in his fingers, the point dipped in crimson, and caught it easily. “If you were going to kill him anyway you could’ve at least let me have some fun first, Semi-Semi.”

Semi’s teeth ground together as his jaw clenched. He finished typing out his text and pressed “Send” with a little too much force. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t call me that.”

“Why not, Semi-Semi?” mocked Tendou. He strolled closer, still flipping the knife. “Does it bother you? Do _I_ bother you?”

“That was fucking unnecessary,” spat Semi. “He was going to tell us. You didn’t have to slice his face open.”

Tendou hummed. “Didn’t have to, but where’s the fun in that?”

Semi’s eyes narrowed. “You’re one sick motherfucker, you know that?”

Tendou raised a brow and flipped the knife once more before tucking it away. “That’s coming from someone who just blew a man’s brains out. Forgive me if I don’t take it to heart.”

“I did what I had to do,” said Semi. “Killing is part of the job. Torturing someone for no reason is not.”

“As if you’ve never tortured anyone before,” said Tendou through his smile.

Semi turned on his heel and stomped toward the door. 

“There was a reason, by the way,” said Tendou airily, his long legs allowing him to keep up with Semi’s angry pace. “He wasn’t going to break so easily. I could see it in his eyes. You could’ve waved that gun in his face all day long and he wouldn’t have told you anything. He needed a taste of fear first, for incentive.”

Semi whirled back around. Tendou didn’t stop in time and almost walked into him. Semi gave him a rough shove and nearly sent him reeling. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Maybe you fooled Ushijima into thinking you’re valuable to him, but not me. I know you’re just a sadistic bastard who wants a good excuse to cut people up. You don’t care about Shiratorizawa. You’re not doing this for them, you’re doing it for yourself. Everyone who says you’re a monster is fucking right.”

Tendou’s grin flickered away. In its place was a cold, pressing vacancy that put Semi on edge. Semi’s fingers twitched for his gun but he curled his hand into a fist, refusing to reach for it, refusing to show weakness.

“You’re right,” said Tendou, his voice drained of its usual bloody cheer. “I am a monster. I like watching people bleed. I like _making_ them bleed, because if they got the upper hand, they’d do the same to me.” He took a step closer, looming over Semi. “It’s me or them, and I’ll always choose me. I’m a monster, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about Shiratorizawa. Utsui was afraid of me, so he treated me like trash. All of them have always treated me like trash, but Ushijima didn’t. I might be a monster. I might be a freak. But Ushijima believes in me anyway, so don’t make the mistake of thinking I wouldn’t gladly walk to my own death if he asked me to.”

His knife was still tucked away, but Tendou’s eyes were sharp enough to cut Semi just as easily.

“I’m here to follow Ushijima’s orders, same as you,” said Tendou. “We got the information he wanted. I call that a victory, don’t you, Semi-Semi?” His grin reappeared, fleeting and barbed, as he stepped around Semi.

Semi didn’t move. He listened to Tendou’s footsteps scuffing away, and the sound of the door closing behind him.

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, heartbeat quickened by tension.

Semi thought maybe he’d underestimated Tendou Satori.

If he continued to do so, he might end up dead.

  
  
  
  
  
A couple of weeks later, the two of them were on the roof of a ten-story building, Tendou peering over the edge through a set of binoculars, Semi sitting with his back against the stone wall. 

“Nothin’ yet,” said Tendou. He glanced away from the binoculars to look at Semi, then refocused on the target. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” said Semi. “I’m fine.”

The rifle was cool in his grip. He’d assembled it an hour before, when they’d first arrived. The carrier was by his feet, and it was so similar in appearance to a briefcase that he could carry it on the street without attracting unnecessary attention. 

A slight breeze teased at his hair, curling lightly at the planes of his face. He focused on it, took a breath, mentally catalogued the low influence of the wind.

Semi knew that professional snipers had wind gauges and other equipment that they used for their assignments. They had specialized training, and credentials, and other things that Semi Eita would never have.

He didn’t know if he qualified as an actual sniper at all. He liked to think so, and it gave him a measure of pride when anyone referred to him as a sharpshooter, but there was nothing official about it. After his first couple of years with Shiratorizawa, Utsui had noticed Semi’s propensity for shooting. He’d driven him outside of town, set up some targets, and handed him a sniper rifle.

It turned out that Semi had a natural proclivity for it, and after a few months of practice, he could hit any target up to four hundred yards away. Semi was pleased, but he didn’t think it would be a skill that Shiratorizawa would have need of. Most of the time that was true, but on occasion, his talents were required.

“The car just pulled up,” said Tendou, more subdued than usual. “It parked right in front of the door. It’s going to be a quick window, Semi-Semi.”

“I know,” said Semi. He’d expected that, because when he did his research and mapped out his jobs, he always prepared for the worst. That pessimism had served him well. “He’s on the eighth floor. The chauffeur would’ve called him right as he pulled up. He’ll be out in about forty-five seconds.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You just don’t look as angry as usual.”

Semi didn’t respond. He took another breath, held it, and finally moved. The wall around the roof was low, but wide. He knelt with one knee on the ground, propping the rifle up on the concrete wall. He’d already adjusted the scope when they’d arrived, so when he pressed his shoulder against the stock of the rifle to peer through the crosshairs, he barely had to tweak it. He pressed his cheek against the gun and closed one eye, using the other to focus on the entryway of the hotel. 

The car idled just outside the doors, as Tendou had said. 

The wind ruffled Semi’s hair, just barely.

He breathed again, and waited.

“There he is,” said Tendou. He was still crouched a short distance from Semi, peering through the binoculars.

The warning was unnecessary. Semi watched the door open through the scope of the rifle, saw his target emerge and start toward the taxi.

A professional sniper would have known the exact wind speed, and how to adjust for it. They would have known the mechanics of the shot, the angles and the distance. 

Semi knew none of that. He only knew how to aim and shoot, and he allowed his instincts to fill in the gaps.

The wind ruffled his hair again, a little more strongly, and he shifted to the left. His finger curled around the trigger and he slowly exhaled.

There was a flickering second in which everything went still; the wind, the city, the world. Nothing existed aside from the rifle, the scope, and the target. It was peaceful, almost. Soothing, as if this was where Semi was supposed to be, as if all other times he was just out of place.

It was a beautiful, fleeting moment.

He pulled the trigger.

The shot was quiet, courtesy of the silencing equipment installed on the rifle. Semi sat upright, took a breath that buzzed in his lungs, and immediately started disassembling the gun.

He didn’t wait to see if he’d made the shot. He didn’t need to.

He unscrewed the silencer and placed it in the open case, fingers moving nimbly over the parts as he stowed them away. 

“Wow,” breathed Tendou, the binoculars still pressed to his face. “He’s down. Perfect headshot. He didn’t even make it two steps from the door.” He looked over his shoulder, eyes wide. “That was incredible, Semi-Semi.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled. “It’s not a big deal.” He flipped the case closed and snapped the clips. “Come on, we need to get out of here before the police start crawling around.”

He started toward the door that led to the stairs, Tendou scrambling along behind him.

“No, for real,” insisted Tendou. “That was an amazing shot! How many yards was that?”

“Less than five hundred,” said Semi. “Like I said, not a big deal.”

“I wish I could do that,” said Tendou, awed. “You’re really talented, you know that?”

Semi scowled and flung the door open. “Shut up.”

“Oops, looks like you’re angry again,” said Tendou, the teasing lilt returning to his voice. “That good mood didn’t last long. Hey, are you blushing, Semi-Semi?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tendou.”

  
  
  
  
  
Semi had assumed that after he’d been forced to work with Tendou for a few weeks, Ushijima would have mercy on him and allow Semi to return to solo missions.

Three months passed, and they were still stuck together.

“I can pick up a shipment by myself,” said Semi. “Just stay here and find something else to do.”

“Can’t do that,” said Tendou. He leaned against the wall by the door, grinning, as usual. “Ushijima said both of us are going. We’ve got to do what the boss says, right?”

Semi ground his teeth together. “I hate you.”

Tendou’s grin widened. He didn’t look convinced.

Semi’s phone rang, and he was thankful for the excuse to look away from Tendou. “Hey, Oohira.”

“We have a problem,” said Oohira without preamble. “Ushijima needs you to take care of it.”

There was a muffled scream in the background, and Semi was immediately alert. “What’s wrong?”

“It appears some of the old members who retired with Utsui didn’t completely retire,” said Oohira. “They’ve been selling information to the other syndicates. Information about us.”

Semi looked at Tendou, who blinked back, confused. Semi switched the call to speaker. “What do you want me to do?”

“Kawanishi is working on one of them right now,” said Oohira. Another scream attested to the truth of that statement. “There are two others, but he claims he doesn’t know exactly what information they’ve leaked. We believe him.”

If the traitor was in Kawanishi’s clutches, then any information they received would be the truth. It was impossible to cling to lies when Kawanishi was involved. He always remained impassively detached while inflicting agony. It was terrifying, and a good incentive for his victims to spill their guts in exchange for mercy.

“Give me the names,” said Semi. “I’ll get the information.”

Oohira told him, and Semi didn’t bother writing them down. He wouldn’t forget.

“Ushijima doesn’t want them dead yet,” said Oohira. “He wants to kill them himself, to make a statement. He said he doesn’t mind what state they’re in when you drag them here, though.”

“Understood. Consider it done.”

The call ended, and Semi shared a look with Tendou.

Technically the order had been for him only. Oohira had said nothing about Tendou. 

This was the first chance that Semi had been given in three months to go off on his own, without Tendou peering over his shoulder.

He’d been waiting for the chance.

“Let’s go,” said Semi, stepping past him. “We need to take care of this.”

  
  
  
  
  
Conveniently for Semi, the two men were found together, in the same condo. 

Inconveniently for the men, Semi decided to let Tendou take the lead.

Half an hour after they arrived, the two men were bound by arms and ankles to kitchen chairs, one of them gagged into silence while Tendou carved information out of the other’s flesh.

It was bloody and disturbing and Semi found himself unable to look away.

“It wasn’t anything important, really, it wasn’t, believe me,” the man babbled. “We want only the best for Ushijima-san, we wouldn’t have said anything like tha-ah- _ah!_ ”

Tendou waggled the blood-stained blade between his fingers, leering down at his victim. “What did I say about screaming?” he said, singsong. “If you scream, I’ll have to cut your throat to shut you up. 

He pressed the knife against the man’s collarbone and dragged it down to the center of his chest, blood welling and dripping in its wake.

The man bit down, choked desperation bursting between his lips like a sob.

“If this is bothering you,” said Tendou with a wicked grin, “then you’re in for a treat. I’m only getting started.”

“We told them about the suppliers,” the man said, trying and failing to lean away from the blade. “Who Ushijima buys from and where he picks up the merchandise. They wanted to know so they can shut down his business. So they can shut down Shiratorizawa.”

“They,” repeated Tendou, twirling the knife between his fingers. “They, they, _they_. Who is this mysterious they?”

The man balked, and received the point of a blade between his ribs for his hesitation.

“Seijoh!” he said, the single word hysterical. “We sold the information to Seijoh! Please stop, please, _please_ …”

Tendou tucked the blade beneath the man’s chin and used it to tip his face upward. There were tear tracks on his face. 

“That wasn’t your best idea, was it?” said Tendou. “Working with Seijoh. Look where that got you.” He looked over his shoulder at Semi. His eyes were fierce, grin threatening to split his face. There was a smear of blood on his cheek, redder than his hair. “There’s our information, Semi-Semi. I guess I should stop now?”

Semi looked from Tendou to the bleeding man and back at Tendou. His blood was hot with adrenaline, though he hadn’t even touched the men himself. 

“No,” said Semi. “They betrayed Ushijima-san. They deserve whatever you give them.”

Tendou’s grin grew sharper. “You mean it, Semi-Semi?”

“Yeah,” said Semi. His own voice sounded far away as he watched Tendou’s knife dip closer to flesh. “I mean it.”

This time, even the threat of death couldn’t keep the man from screaming.

  
  
  
  
  
When Semi and Tendou delivered the men to Ushijima, they were damaged, but alive. 

That didn’t last long.

With the sound of dual gunshots still ringing in their ears, Ushijima slid his .45 back into its holster and turned to Semi. “They are quite bloody.”

Semi barely kept himself from glancing sideways at Tendou. “They didn’t want to give up the information. It took some convincing.”

Ushijima nodded. “Thank you for your effort, both of you. I will have Shirabu pick up your shipment. Relax for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you, Ushijima-san,” said Semi. 

He left the room with Tendou on his heels. Breathing in the air of the hallway was a relief. The iron stench of blood was beginning to make him nauseous.

“Well that was fun,” said Tendou, loping along beside him.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

“Ushijima was pleased.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t stop me,” said Tendou, “when I was cutting those guys up. I thought you would.”

“Maybe I should have,” said Semi. He pushed his hair away from his forehead and started up the stairs. “But they deserved to suffer, and you deserved to have your fun with them. It was fine.”

They emerged into the vast kitchen of Ushijima’s restaurant. Shiratorizawa’s more questionable affairs – such as the execution of two traitors – were dealt with in the basement. Before Semi started across the room, Tendou caught his sleeve. 

Semi tilted his head up to meet Tendou’s leer.

“You watched me,” said Tendou, “the whole time. Did you like it?”

Semi wanted to hit him. Instead he tugged out of Tendou’s grip and looked away. “Let’s get out of here before Shirabu shows up. I don’t want to deal with him today.”

He walked away, and this time Tendou didn’t stop him. 

“Do you want to grab dinner?” said Tendou. “Since we have the day off?”

Semi shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

He wasn’t looking at him, be he still felt Tendou’s grin. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we, Semi-Semi?”

As desperate as Semi had been to get away from Tendou, he found he couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess we do.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place directly after Chapter 6 of the main fic.
> 
> Please take note of the new tags. Their sexual exploits are a bit questionable.

**NOW**

Semi was angry with Tendou on a frequent basis. It was nothing new to him. He got angry when Tendou teased him too much, or when Tendou wouldn’t stop playing with knives, or when Tendou broke into Semi’s apartment in the middle of the night and nearly gave him a heart attack.

Anger was nothing new, but Semi hadn’t been flat-out furious at him for a long time.

The rage began after the incident with Oikawa, and should have faded throughout the course of the day. Hours later, when Semi finally left the restaurant and headed toward the apartments across the street, he was just as furious as he’d been that morning.

He took the elevator, stomped past his own door, and didn’t stop until he’d reached the last apartment at the end of the hallway. 

He didn’t bother knocking. He shoved the door open, and it swung inward without resistance.

Tendou never locked his door. No one was stupid enough to break in.

Tendou was lounging back on the couch, the blare of the too-loud television filling the room. He’d stripped off his jacket and his gun, and the shirt beneath was halfway unbuttoned. He flipped a knife between his fingers, and reacted to Semi’s arrival with his usual grin. “Hey there, Semi-Semi. Please, make yourself at home. No need to knock or show any common courtesy.”

Semi stepped inside and slammed the door behind him.

Tendou’s eyebrows rose as he eyed Semi, soaking in his toxic mood. Blindly he reached for the remote, the knife still twirling between the fingers of his free hand, and cut the volume. When the room lapsed into silence, he said, “Something wrong?”

“Is something wrong?” repeated Semi through gritted teeth. “ _Is something wrong?_ What the fuck is your problem?”

Tendou hummed. “I have a lot of problems, Semi-Semi. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Oikawa,” snapped Semi. “Why the hell do you think it’s okay to talk to Oikawa like that?”

“I was just messing around,” said Tendou with a shrug. “I like fucking with him. It’s fun.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed, you idiot. He already hates all of us. Don’t give him a reason to come after you.”

“He won’t come after me,” said Tendou, his blade sliding between his fingers like liquid. “He and Ushijima have an understanding.”

“If you’d seen the way Oikawa looked when he left, you might rethink that,” said Semi. “He was pissed, and if he starts picking us off, he’s going to come for you first.”

Tendou grinned. “He can try.”

Semi’s hands curled into fists. He wished there was something nearby for him to throw. “Can you be normal for five fucking minutes and try to care about your own life?”

Tendou tossed the knife up, caught it by the tip of the blade, and threw it straight at Semi. It was a blur of silver as it cut through the air and slammed into the wall an inch away from Semi’s head. It ruffled his hair as it passed, but he didn’t flinch.

“No,” said Tendou, “I’m afraid I can’t.”

Semi’s fury morphed into something brighter, hotter. It burned like flames as he yanked the knife out of the wall and hurled it right back.

Tendou’s eyes flew wide. He dove to the side, barely ducking out of the way as the blade sliced into the middle cushion of the couch, precisely where he’d been sitting. He stared at it, startled, and by the time he stood, Semi had crossed the room to seize the front of his shirt.

Tendou’s back hit the wall, and Semi’s grip was like steel.

“If you’re okay with dying then maybe I’ll just kill you,” spat Semi, “and save Oikawa the trouble.”

Tendou smirked. “Sounds kinky.”

Semi shoved him aside with a snarl. Tendou stumbled and barely kept himself from hitting the floor.

“Fuck you,” said Semi, the words burning like acid. “Do what you want, then. Don’t expect my help when Oikawa sends his mad dog after you.”

“As if I’m afraid of that scrawny little mutt.”

Semi thought about shooting him. He’d found that it was the best way to deal with his problems. His fingers itched for his gun, but he turned on his heel and stomped toward the door.

He was reaching for it when Tendou slipped in front of him, blocking his exit, arms out to his sides.

“Wait, hang on,” said Tendou. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “Don’t go yet.”

“Get out of my fucking way.”

“Semi-Semi.” He reached for Semi’s shoulder but was slapped away. “Come on, calm down. I was joking.”

“I’m not in the mood for your jokes.”

“Okay,” said Tendou, holding his hands up between them. “Okay, got it. You’re actually mad. Sorry.”

“Of course I’m mad,” snapped Semi. “You’re going to get yourself killed because you don’t know when to shut your fucking mouth.”

“Like I said, I was just messing with him,” said Tendou. He reached out again, and this time Semi let him. He rested his hands on Semi’s shoulders, thumbs rubbing lightly beneath the edge of his jacket. “I don’t think he took it personally.”

“It doesn’t matter, Satori,” said Semi. He didn’t mean to use Tendou’s given name. It slipped. “You don’t mess around with someone like Oikawa. You know some of the shit he’s done.”

“I know,” said Tendou. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just say you won’t do something that stupid again.”

“I do stupid things a lot, so I can’t promise that,” said Tendou. Semi’s glare narrowed and he rushed to add, “But I won’t taunt Oikawa anymore. I swear on my life, Semi-Semi.”

“That doesn’t mean much, since you don’t seem to care about your life.”

“I swear on your life then,” said Tendou. “I do care about that.”

Semi turned away with a huff, folding his arms across his chest. He was still angry, but the scalding rage had been tamped down. He didn’t know how much he trusted Tendou to keep his mouth shut, but maybe he would at least think about his words before he spat them out.

Long fingers raked through the back of Semi’s hair, and hot breath grazed his ear. “Don’t be mad, Eita. Everything is fine, okay? I’m fine.”

“For now. Until Oikawa decides to kill your creepy ass.”

Tendou breathed a low laugh. “I’m not worried.” He ran a hand down Semi’s arm, stretching it out in front of them, holding their fingers in the shape of a mock gun. “You’ll shoot him down before he even gets close to me.”

“Or maybe I’ll just let him have you,” said Semi, clenching his fingers around Tendou’s too tightly. “My life would be easier without you in it.”

“Easier, sure,” said Tendou. He licked along the shell of Semi’s ear. “But also boring.”

“Maybe boring would be better,” said Semi, refusing to react.

“We both know you’d never be satisfied with that,” murmured Tendou. He nipped at Semi’s ear, hard enough to sting. Semi pulled away and took a step back, scowling. 

Tendou stalked closer, herding Semi back, only stopping when Semi’s calves bumped against the couch. Tendou gave him a firm push, sending him into an unsteady seat. 

“You like having a little excitement in your life, don’t you, Semi-Semi?” said Tendou, the purr of the words a stark contrast to his sharp leer. He draped himself over Semi’s lap, straddling him, long legs folding on either side of Semi’s hips. He was tall enough that he towered over him, forced to hunker down to put them on the same level. He reached to the side and yanked the knife out of the couch, fabric tearing as he pulled it free.

Semi’s eyes followed the knife as it twisted between Tendou’s fingers.

“If I didn’t know any better,” said Tendou, “I would think you were trying to hurt me, throwing a knife at me like that.”

“You threw it at me first,” said Semi.

Tendou hummed in agreement. “Sure, but I wasn’t going to hit you. You knew that, Semi-Semi. You didn’t even blink.” He pressed the tip of the blade against Semi’s chin, lightly, and traced along the line of his jaw. “If I hadn’t moved, you would’ve hit me.”

“But you did move,” said Semi, breathing in sharply as the knife touched his earlobe. “I knew you would.”

“Is that so?” said Tendou. He used the point of the knife to brush Semi’s hair away from his face. “What would you have done if I hadn’t?”

That was a pointless question. Semi had known Tendou would move, because Semi didn’t have the same precision with knives as he did with guns. Tendou knew if Semi sent a knife in his direction, it was in his best interest to get out of the way.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Semi. “You did.”

Tendou hunched a little more, his face hovering an inch away from Semi’s. The knife slid across Semi’s cheekbone, pressure increasing just enough to sting. Semi sucked in a breath, his heartbeat skipping as the blade pierced the skin. 

He should’ve shoved Tendou away. It’s what he’d done the first time this had happened, so long ago that Semi couldn’t remember the exact day.

Instead he closed his eyes as Tendou breathed over his cheek and licked across the cut. 

When Tendou kissed him, Semi tasted his own blood on Tendou’s tongue.

Semi gripped Tendou’s shirt and shoved him to the side, pushing him onto his back. Semi braced a knee between Tendou’s legs and stretched over him, elbows sinking into the couch, Tendou’s lean body hot beneath him.

Tendou wielded his teeth as they kissed, catching Semi’s lips and nipping at his tongue, biting at his jaw when Semi broke away for breath.

Tendou slipped an arm between them and tucked the edge of the knife beneath the top button of Semi’s shirt, right at his throat.

A spike of heat pulsed down Semi’s spine, but he said, “If you ruin another shirt I’ll fucking kill you.”

Tendou’s grin was taunting. “You said that last time and here I am, still alive.”

Semi scowled, but before he could snap back, the knife slid from Tendou’s fingers to clatter against the floor. 

“Sit up,” said Tendou, smoothing his hands along Semi’s waist.

Semi did as he said, shrugging his jacket off as he moved. He tossed it over the back of the couch and Tendou squirmed half-upright beneath him. He tugged at the straps of Semi’s holster, working them loose and sliding the gun off to join the knife on the floor. 

He leaned up to drag his tongue across Semi’s bloody cheek again, humming in approval. 

“You’re disgusting,” said Semi, as Tendou worked open his button-up. 

“And you like it,” said Tendou, pushing the shirt off of Semi’s shoulders. “What does that say about you?”

Semi kissed him, just to shut him up.

Hands traced up Semi’s ribs, surprisingly gentle, and gripped his shoulders as Tendou mouthed at his neck. Semi sucked in a breath when teeth teased at sensitive skin.

Tendou pulled back, eyes half-lidded and hazy, to eye Semi’s bare torso. He traced his fingers over the colors inked into Semi’s shoulder, followed them down his bicep to his elbow and wrist. There were overlapping shades of blue, blurring together into waves. A koi fish was in the midst, struggling against the current, its scales a patchy mix of black and orange.

Semi ground his hips against Tendou to reclaim his attention. “Stop staring,” he said, less irritation behind the words than he would have liked.

“I like looking at you,” said Tendou, his grin smug. He traced his fingers over the tattoo again, holding Semi’s gaze. “Anyone would. You’re mesmerizing.”

Semi rolled his eyes and shoved Tendou onto his back. “Shut the fuck up, you nerd.”

Tendou laughed, his typical ugly cackle. He lunged forward, and before Semi could react, he’d been tossed backward, spine pressed into the couch, Tendou pinning him down. 

Tendou dipped down to his neck again, mouthing his way down, teeth scraping across Semi’s collarbones as Tendou fidgeted with the button of his pants.

Semi was distantly aware that he’d come here to scold Tendou, not to fuck him.

He forgot about that completely when Tendou shucked off his pants and shuffled down to lick along the length of his cock, lapping at him through his underwear. 

“Shit,” hissed Semi. He planted a foot against Tendou’s shoulder and shoved him back. “Take your clothes off first.”

“Oh?” said Tendou with a grin. “Does Semi-Semi want to see me naked? How crude.” 

“I’ve seen you naked a hundred times, you idiot,” said Semi.

It was the truth, but still Semi didn’t look away as Tendou slipped out of his shirt and sat up on his knees to shove his pants down his hips. 

Tendou was long and almost too lean, his ribs pressing against pale skin. Only half of them were visible; his left side, from shoulder to hip, was shrouded in dark ink, swirls of black and red. Tendou leaned over him again, and Semi found the fierce, fanged Oni on Tendou’s chest leering at him.

It had unsettled him at first, but he’d gotten used to it. The Oni wasn’t as menacing as the Tengu on Tendou’s back. 

Tendou rolled his hips down against Semi, and he sucked in a gasp at the sudden contact. 

“You’re hard already, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou, his fingers dipping into the band of Semi’s underwear and coaxing them down. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like me.”

“Good thing you know better,” said Semi, raising his hips so Tendou could lay him bare.

Tendou finished stripping too, and the two of them ground against one another, mouths meeting in a hot slide of lips and tongue, punctuated by Tendou’s greedy teeth. He dipped a hand between the couch cushions and, a moment later, started working Semi open with lube-slick fingers.

Semi pushed down against him, his first purring moan muffled into Tendou’s mouth.

Tendou scissored his fingers, curled them, and Semi bucked against him, his nails digging into Tendou’s shoulders.

“That’s enough,” said Semi, squirming away from him. “I’m good.”

“That was only two,” said Tendou. He wiggled two fingers in front of Semi’s face in demonstration. 

“I said it’s enough.”

Tendou blinked down at him and then grinned slowly, curling his hand around Semi’s hip, leaving a smear of lube. “It’ll hurt a little, then,” he said, ducking his head to leave a sharp nip on Semi’s shoulder, “but that’s what you want, isn’t it? You like when it hurts.”

Semi’s face may have been red. He was too far gone to care. “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Whatever you say, Eita.” Tendou murmured the name against Semi’s inked shoulder before licking a trail up his neck and kissing him again. He gripped Semi’s leg, just beneath his thigh, adjusted his position between his legs, and slowly pressed into him.

It wasn’t an easy fit. Semi should have let Tendou stretch him a little more. It was tight and rough and a shade toward painful.

But Tendou had been right.

Semi did like it.

Maybe he’d always been that way, or maybe Tendou brought out the worst in him. Either way, when Tendou finally sank all the way in, the burn was breathtaking.

Semi let his head fall back as Tendou settled in, letting him adjust. He ran his hands up the long stretch of Tendou’s back, over the scars that had been painted over with dark ink. Semi had never seen the scars; Tendou had gotten his tattoos long before they’d been together. He could feel them though, thick and ropy, telling Tendou’s story like it was written in braille on his flesh.

Tendou shifted his hips, pulled out slightly, and pressed right back in, his sharp hipbones jabbing into Semi’s thighs.

“You feel good, Eita,” he said, nosing at Semi’s jaw. “You always feel so good.”

“Then stop stalling and fuck me,” said Semi, a little breathless. He ground his hips upward, and a surge of hot pleasure pulsed through him. 

It must have shown on his face. Tendou leered down at him with narrow eyes and bared teeth. “Okay then,” he said, “whatever you want.” He slipped a hand beneath Semi’s knee, spread his legs wider, and slammed into him.

Semi’s moan was snuffed out, the breath stolen from his lungs, as Tendou thrust into him. There was no slow start, no buildup. He rammed his hips forward hard and fast. The pain and pleasure were at an equal balance. There was too much force, and Tendou was driving him into the couch, and the grip around Semi’s knee was so tight that it would likely bruise.

It was intoxicating.

Semi dug his nails into Tendou’s back and pushed his hips up to meet him, feeding on the feeling, seeking more. Tendou was hot and solid inside him, setting him aflame from the inside out.

Tendou thrust in and stopped, dropping Semi’s knee, leaning over him until their chests were nearly flush together. He licked at Semi’s mouth and raised a hand to cup his face. The touch was light, gentle.

“Satori?”

Tendou answered by digging his thumbnail into the cut on Semi’s cheek, reopening the shallow wound, freeing another dribble of blood.

“Shit,” hissed Semi. He flinched, but didn’t pull away. 

Tendou smeared the blood on Semi’s face, then sat back and licked it off of his fingers.

Everyone called Tendou a monster, and it was easy to understand why. Semi had called him that too, back when they’d first met. He was vicious and fearsome and twisted. He liked hurting people, and despite their relationship, Semi wasn’t convinced that Tendou had a conscience.

Even so, the sight of him licking Semi’s blood off of his fingers affected Semi more than it should have.

He supposed that made him just as much of a monster as Tendou.

He found that he really didn’t mind.

Tendou sucked the last of the blood off of his index finger, eyes never leaving Semi’s as he reached down and curled his hand around Semi’s dick.

“Fuck, Satori,” said Semi, as Tendou squeezed. “Stop fucking teasing.”

“It’s fun, though,” said Tendou, leaning over him again. He kissed Semi, dipping his tongue past his lips, curling it around the edges of his teeth. He twisted his wrist in a long stroke and thrust forward again, and Semi’s moan was swallowed by a twisted grin.

It took several more strokes, some teeth-rattling thrusts, and a painful bite to his shoulder before Semi came, spilling between them with a raspy moan.

Tendou wasn’t far behind. He shuddered as Semi clenched around him, dragged his tongue across a bloody cheek once more, and filled Semi with sticky heat.

When he finished, he didn’t bother moving. He let himself fall on top of Semi, come smearing between them. The sudden weight punched the breath from Semi’s lungs and he flailed weakly, trying and failing to displace Tendou.

“Move, you idiot. I’m suffocating.”

“You’re being dramatic. You’ll be fine.”

“Fucking _move_.”

Tendou gave in with a huff, rolling to the side, squeezing in between Semi and the back of the couch. They were still crammed together, sticky flesh against sticky flesh, Tendou’s arm draped over Semi’s chest.

They laid like that for a while, breaths slowing and mingling in the air between them. Semi’s eyes fell closed and he allowed himself to relax for the first time since Oikawa had stepped into the restaurant that morning.

“You don’t look mad anymore,” said Tendou quietly. He traced absent patterns against Semi’s skin. “Are we good?”

“As long as you stop baiting yakuza bosses into killing you then yeah, we’re good.”

“There go my plans for the weekend,” said Tendou with a grin. “You’re such a buzzkill, Semi-Semi.”

“Shut up.”

Tendou laughed into his shoulder, then brushed a kiss against it. “Want to stay over tonight?”

“I just live down the hallway.”

“Yeah, so?”

Semi sighed and sank closer against him. “Sure, whatever. I’ll stay.”

He could at least spend the night, since Tendou had agreed to tone down his insults toward Oikawa.

That was for the best. 

Someday Semi would probably snap and kill Tendou himself, but until that day came, no one else was allowed to touch him.


End file.
